


Domesticity Suits Him

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: can you please write a fic where Jaskier would be braiding his daughter’s hair and the reader is awe at how close your husband Jaskier and your daughter are and while the daughter is either out playing or taking a nap, the reader and Jaskier struggle up and he braids the reader/his wife’s hair too.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Domesticity Suits Him

When you’d left home that morning to run errands Sam had been all but literally bouncing off the walls. Your rowdy girl whose restlessness you recognized all too well as a dangerous blend of yourself and her father. She’d been turning whatever she could get her tiny hands on into swords since she could clasp things in her chubby, baby fists, pretending to fight her Uncle Geralt when he came to visit and always courageously felling him swiftly. Her knees were always scraped up and no matter how often you cleaned her face there was always dirt on it within minutes somehow. At four she had upped her love of sword fighting to include dramatic narrations. That was all her father’s doing. You knew it should be disturbing hearing that tiny voice talk about cleaving but she had her father’s bright blue eyes and his smile that was already getting her out of trouble too often to probably be good for her. Despite the chaos of the morning when you arrive home the first thing you notice is the quiet. There are no shrieks or laughter and for a moment you think the worst, a paranoia you inherited the moment you’d learned you were pregnant.

You see them before they see you and you duck out of the way, hiding a little bit behind the door to take in the beautiful scene. Sam sitting in her father’s lap, hands clasped as she tries to echo the sound her father is making and you realize he’s taking her through her scales. As they sing, Jaskier gently brushes through the long y/h/c/ hair, picking out the occasional twig as he does.

“I’m tired of scales I want to sing words,” the little girl complains, sighing dramatically.

“What do you want to sing, my little love?” Jaskier asks.Some would say that fatherhood had tamed him or softened him, but they would be terribly wrong. He had always been capable of such softness, a fact you’d learned before long in your relationship. And he was just as feral now, if not more. He could be doing anything in the world and the moment he heard his daughter’s cries he was ruthless in his pursuit of her, immediately ready to vanquish whatever had hurt her whether it be a tree stump or a fellow child.

“I want to sing my song,” she responds. Her father’s daughter through and through. They begin to sing one of the many lullabies he’s written about her, this one featuring a girl and her pet wolf. As they sing Jaskier threads sections of her hair nimbly and you’re in awe of how still she is for him, and frankly how still he is at all. He’d always been the restless sort and while his travelling days weren’t all behind him, he seemed more at peace nowadays. Neither of you had been sure how a child would complicate your lives and there was more than one night you could see him warring with the fear that he wouldn’t be up to the challenge of caring for a child. The moment she wrapped her small fist around his finger, it was over. You and your daughter were close but the bond Jaskier had with Sam was something truly special and you were grateful you were able to be a part of it. Jaskier ties off the end of the braid with a yellow ribbon that will be dangling from her hair within moments but it’s beautiful and you can see the pride in his eyes as he examines his work.

“Look, Mitka, look who’s home!” he says when he catches you watching them. Your daughter turns her face to yours and it lights up, the same bright smile as her father. She squeals your name and barrels at you, tackling you in a hug before you spin her around. You know you’re winding her up but you can’t help it, you love the gleeful sounds she makes. Once you put her down she runs out the door but she knows to stay within the boundaries of the yard and you let her wander off. Jaskier walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in and giving you a kiss on the temple.

“How do you do it?” you ask aloud.

“Do what? Stay so youthfully handsome?” he asks with a roguish wink.

“No,” you say, swatting him away playfully, “How do you get her to stay so still? Do you remember that one and only time I tried to do her hair? You’d have thought I was murdering her with the way she carried on.”

“I have a surprising set of skills, Y/N, you should know this by now,” he says, pulling you into the small living space with him. He sits on the floor and pats his lap.

“Come on, your turn,” he says, “I’ll show you what I mean.”

You need to start dinner but you get so little time alone, mostly when Geralt comes around to visit and takes Sam for a ride on Roach, so you agree. You sit between his legs, a familiar position but this time chaste, and he pulls the ribbon out of your hair that’s been holding it in a haphazard bun. He’s gentle as he brushes through your hair, carefully loosening the knots in a way that spares you any pain, humming quietly to himself as he does. He gently massages your scalp as he works out the last knots, pulling a contented sigh from your lips. There was a time he would have talked through these moments, never good with silences in the past. But he’s grown to appreciate the power of shared space and touch and the intimacy that can come from simply being by each other. You feel the braids begin to take shape, the weight of your hair being lifted as his hands work deftly. When he takes the ribbon from you and ties it off you let yourself lean into him, his arms wrapping around you and holding you against him tightly.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” you ask, whispering the words into his collar bones. You feel the soft rumble of his chuckling.

“Only once this morning. I was going to say something about it, ask if there was someone else, but thankfully you’ve spared me the torment,” he replies. You laugh and then both of your heads turn at the sound of scampering feet.

“UNCLE GERALT IS HERE!” she screeches, unable to contain all of the joy in her tiny frame. You help Jaskier up off the floor and after Sam runs back outside he pulls you back in for a kiss.

“How quickly do you think we can get him to take her on aride?” you ask.

“Oh about one or two verses should do,” Jaskier replies with a devilish grin. You walk out to greet your friend, your daughter already hoisted on his shoulders, happy to have your little family complete again.


End file.
